Diagnosis Murder: The Death Merchant by Lee Goldberg Read Free Book Online

had the permanent laugh lines of a man who found more amusement than sorrow in life.
    Mark wasn't sure what Kealoha had just said, but it sounded like they weren't in any hurry to do the autopsy.
    "I'm not sure I understand," Mark said.
    "Da bruddah was grind by a shark," Kealoha replied. "Nothun' left 'cept his flog, brah."
    Mark glanced wearily at Steve, who smiled and flashed his badge at the cop.
    "I'm Steve Sloan, LAPD Homicide, and this is my father, Dr. Mark Sloan," he said. "So if you don't mind, bruddah, how about letting us have a look at the body?"
    Kealoha examined the badge, smiled back at Steve, and motioned them around the counter. "Why didn't you say so to begin with? Always glad to oblige my colleagues in law enforcement. I'm Sgt. Ben Kealoha, but you can call me Benny."
    He led them through the tiny squad room, with its three metal desks, cinder block walls, and window air conditioners, toward a door at the end of long, narrow corridor.
    "So what's with the pidgin-English routine?" Steve asked.
    "The tourists love it," Kealoha said. "They want us Hawaiians to be Hawaiian, brah. What's your interest in Danny Royal?"
    "Nothing official," Steve said.
    "We met him for the first time on Saturday. He invited us for dinner at his restaurant," Mark said. "We were on the beach Sunday when he was attacked."
    "Do you know him well enough to identify his body?" Kealoha asked.
    "I suppose so," Mark said.
    "K'den, that will save us some trouble," Kealoha said, holding the door open and motioning them into the morgue. "I really don't want to ask a civilian to make the ID, considering the condition he's in, if you know what I mean."
    They walked past Kealoha into the cold room. The floor was cement, gradually sloped toward several area drains for easy cleaning with a hose. One wall was lined with a half dozen refrigerated morgue drawers for holding bodies. There were two autopsy tables in the center of the room. On one of the tables lay the remains of Danny Royal, covered to the neck with a white sheet, not that it made much difference. What the sheet hid the imagination could readily fill in. The sheet was flat on the table below his knees.
    Standing beside the table, looking as white as the sheet, was a woman in her late twenties scribbling furiously on her clipboard, taking deep breathes and letting the air out slowly. She had curly brown hair and wore a tank top, a pair of knee-length shorts, and leather sandals. There was a tape measure around her neck, the kind a seamstress might use.
    "Dis da shark lady," Kealoha said.
    "Veronica Klein." She offered her trembling hand to Mark and Steve. "I'm a senior field agent with the Shark Task Force of the Hawaii State Department of Land and Natural Resources."
    "You must need both sides of a business card for all that," Steve said with a smile, then introduced himself and his father to her.
    Mark glanced at Danny's frozen face. His eyes were open, his mouth wide, a death mask of utter terror.
    "That's Danny Royal," Mark said. "Where's the medical examiner?"
    "On his way in from Princeville," Kealoha said. "But we got everything we need to know from the shark lady."
    "Which is?" Steve asked.
    "Da bruddah was grind by a shark," Kealoha said with a grin.
    'There's a bit more to it than that," Veronica said, almost reluctantly turning toward the body. "I'm going to lift the sheet now. I want you to be prepared."
    She seemed to be saying it more for herself than for the others. When she didn't hear any objections, she took a deep breath and slowly drew the sheet back to expose the corpse.
    Danny's legs were missing below the knees, and both his arms were gone. His torso was also ravaged, large chunks of flesh ripped from his sides.
    "As you can see, the wounds are all broad and curvilinear," she said, swallowing hard.
    " Curvilinear ." Kealoha looked at Steve. "Funny, that was just what I was about to say."
    "It means a rough semicircle," she said, a touch of irritation slipping into